


Spare The Rod

by auroreanrave



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Discipline, M/M, Rough Sex, Spanking, Teacher-Student Relationship, inappropriate relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-03
Updated: 2015-05-03
Packaged: 2018-03-28 22:06:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3871426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/auroreanrave/pseuds/auroreanrave
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Oberyn is Joffrey's art tutor; the latter is insolent and the former metes out punishment.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Spare The Rod

**Author's Note:**

> This is a kinky ficlet written for Marianne Lidell (I am so sorry it took this long). Much kinkier than I normally write, so forgive me for this crack-y smutness.

Joffrey's whimpers are tight and hot against Oberyn's thigh, as Oberyn brings down the riding crop firmly onto Joffrey's pink, plush backside.

"You - you can't do this - you're - "

"Talking back. Another stroke, I think." Oberyn's cock pulses through his trousers, but he ignores it, for now, in lieu of whipping another stroke across Joffrey's backside with the crop.

Joffrey's protests open up on a silent scream, wincing, even as his own cock throbs between Oberyn's thighs. The boy is willing, even if he will not voice it so. His consent in silent and potent.

Joffrey has been seeing Oberyn for after school art classes for the past month or so. Initially the idea of his mother, Joffrey had turned up half an hour late to his first session, his preppy clothes dishevelled and the smear of lipstick on his cheek the shade Oberyn recognises as belonging solely to the Tyrell girl in the year above. Joffrey had slouched in a chair, and sulkily refused to do anything Oberyn asked.

"Your insolence is most amusing." Oberyn says, smoothing his hand over the round flesh of Joffrey's buttock, placing the crop to one side. Joffrey hisses under his breath, and then it's a little whimper of pleasure as the skin glows pink Oberyn's tender touch.

"You don't complete the homework or assignments I tell you to, you're consistently late, you come in smelling of other girls..." Oberyn's voice is low, and quiet. The night is cold and dark outside, and within the hour, Joffrey's mother will send a car to pick him up, the silent Mr Payne ready to drive him home. Inside the arts building of the high school, the studio is warm.

"Do you hate that I smell like other girls?" Joffrey taunts, managing to lilt a sneer into his voice, despite his prone position. Oberyn pauses. He is, perhaps, a little jealous. Joffrey is far from his first lover, not even the first student he seduced, but Joffrey is the most spoilt, the most arrogant. He feels a need to give Joffrey what he needs, rather than what he wants.

Fortunately, both of those things for Joffrey, whether he believes it or not, is discipline.

He needs what his parents cannot give him. He needs structure. Rules. Boundaries.

Boundaries that Oberyn is more than willing to set up, if only to topple at the nearest opportunity.

Oberyn had considered simply seducing the boy, in a swirl of paint and late-night need. Taking him on the cool hardwood floor of the studio, to make his moans echo around the cavernous space.

Both Oberyn and Joffrey prefer this better, Oberyn thinks.

Oberyn knows what will come next. When Joffrey breaks, which he always does, willingly, then Oberyn will fuck him and make it a torture of its own. Soft and slow and elegant, as langorous a fuck as Joffrey's never had. Oberyn might not even be the first to take Joffrey's arse - he wouldn't be too surprised if the paid bodyguard with the half-burned face that follows Joffrey around has done the job already like a good dog - but he intends to make himself the one Joffrey will never forget.

Oberyn lands another crack of his palm to the swell of Joffrey's arse, the pink flushing to red, and Joffrey whimpers, squirming. "No, I am not... jealous." He presses his thumbnail into the flesh of Joffrey's buttock and Joffrey chokes out a gasp.

"Are you willing to behave?"

"Fu--fuck you--" Joffrey gasps, his own cock hard and fat, and Oberyn imagines the remaining thirty seven minutes of their time together; spreading Joffrey's cheeks, red and sensitive, as he slides his cock into Joffrey's hole, nails scratching marks into the flesh that only Joffrey and his harem of pretty young things will see.

Oberyn rather likes the idea of marking him up.

"Oh, Mr Baratheon," Oberyn says, his mouth pressing a mark to Joffrey's pale neck, "I think that's the first good idea you've had all night."


End file.
